“You brought it up,” she pointed out. “You mentioned chivalry, or rather its lack.” She smiled suddenly. “Shall we consign the past to the devil? It was a long time ago and I certainly was a very different person then.”

“I’d like to think I was too,” he said. “So yes, let’s please call a truce. I would like very much to get to know the grown-up Miss Rutherford, if you’ll allow me to?” He laid a hand on her knee, his head tilted as he regarded her quizzically.

Petra remembered just in time that she was receiving the undivided attention of an expert seducer. His moves were practiced and presumably he was accustomed to their success. She lifted his hand and gave it back to him with a calm deliberation. “If we continue to see each other around town, Guy, I’m sure we’ll become better acquainted.”

Something flashed in the dark depths of his eyes, then he inclined his head in mute acknowledgment, saying nothing more until the carriage drew up underneath the portico of the Savoy. He jumped down, reaching up a hand to help her alight.

“Thank you.” Petra took his hand, jumping lightly to the cobbled carriageway before the ornate doors to the hotel. She shook out the folds of her skirt, waiting as the hackney in front disgorged its passengers.

“If you’re agreeable, Petra, we thought we’d like to lunch in the River Room rather than the Grill,” Diana said, coming over to her. “The river’s so lively on a day like this.”

“Absolutely,” Petra agreed. “Is that all right with you, Guy?” She offered him a friendly smile.

“Your wish, my dear girl, will always be my command,” he returned with an exaggerated flourish. “Rutherford, I’m going ahead to see about a table, if you’d like to escort the ladies.”

Petra glanced at Diana and Fenella, who both raised inquiring eyebrows. “How was the drive?” Diana asked quietly as Jonathan finished paying their cab driver.

“Interesting,” Petra returned as softly. “But if I’m to pull this off I’ll have to keep my guard up.”

She touched a finger to her lips in warning as Jonathan came up. “Shall we go?” He gestured they should go ahead of him as the doorman opened the double doors and they stepped into the hotel’s cool, high-ceilinged lobby.

Guy was talking to the maître d’hôtel outside the entrance to the River Room. He waved them over. “How fortunate, Christophe has a window table for us.”

“If you’d like to come this way, my lord, mesdames, monsieur.” Christophe walked through the busy dining room. At first glance, it seemed to Petra that all the tables were occupied, but the maître d’hôtel moved unerringly to the far end of the dining room where a table stood in semi-seclusion in a window embrasure overlooking the river.